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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080329">Crisp Autumn Nights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whuffie/pseuds/Whuffie'>Whuffie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cozy Autumn Prompts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Erotica, F/M, Masturbation, Sex, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:53:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whuffie/pseuds/Whuffie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Crisp Autumn Nights</p><p>Time Period: During Inquisition / Before Tresspasser</p><p>Content: Light on plot, heavy on smut - all with consent and between adults.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Female Trevelyan, Blackwall/Female Inquisitor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cozy Autumn Prompts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Crisp Autumn Nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alpha wasn’t the name her parents gave her when she was a babe, but she abandoned it as soon as she could. She defined herself as someone who competed to be first in everything and a nickname from her childhood stuck. Challenges didn’t always end with victory, but Alpha’s inner fire never stopped burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she became a widow, she grieved beneath a grey bank of fog for 100 days. At Warren’s funeral, her tears choked out all the condolences and friends who reached out to her. Her soul lay in shreds, and for the first month of misery, she shut herself away from everyone. Sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband’s pillow clutched up to her chest, she sobbed silently into it and gave herself the hundred days. She didn’t speak to anyone or go out more than necessary for minimal survival. Her existence was tightly stitched threads of pain, woe, and tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the one hundred first day, she dried her eyes. She stepped into daylight and spoke to neighbors. The grief remained as it always would, but she began to learn how to live with it. Life resumed. She cleared out Warren’s possessions except a few keepsakes, and returned to a trade which she pursued before her marriage. Always the red ram in the middle of the white family flock, Alpha had a talent for blades, fast footwork and a wicked eye for weakness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogue training landed her at the Conclave. She was no diplomat, but she could drop someone who thought they could defy the Divine’s call to peaceful negotiations with a subtle stab. Her presence was meant to reassure distant relatives who she wouldn’t have recognized if she plowed into them at a market. Even so, they were family. She promised to protect them if anything went awry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went very awry, but she barely knew the names of the dead Trevelyans. Their loss barely registered when Alpha was confronted with a mystical green mark on their hand. Worse, it came down to her to solve the problem of a pulsing green hole in the sky which shat out demons at every opportunity. The whole situation was unnerving and often annoying, but there were a few things she enjoyed about the Inquisition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chief among them was the stray Grey Warden she decided was worth bending over a banister for. She hadn’t an ounce of regret thus far, in spite of his warnings. They fought hard and liked to fuck even harder. Blackwall happily obliged. The reluctance he’d shown at first had been strange and he insisted they would suffer somehow if they went into a relationship. He hadn’t brought the weird conversation up again. Because he was breaking through the guarded, secret places of a heart which hadn’t loved or been loved for years, she assumed it was one-time nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back at Skyhold, her thoughts were less on her growing fondness for her Warden as they were a distinct itch which needed to be scratched. Fall had thrown it’s blanket of bright colors and browns over the world. With it came frosty mornings and a chill in the air which whipped into her blood, making her feel alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throwing open the balcony doors to her quarters, she breathed deeply from the air which differed dramatically from summer or spring. Gone were the wafts of sweet flowers and grasses. The promise of snow laden the autumn air, and although she might have imagined it, she thought she caught a hint of spices from the kitchen. “Blackwall, where are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been less than a quarter hour, and at a guess she imagined he was at the stables, lending labor and brushing out his horse. Her favorite steed, Filcher, needed padlocks rather than brushes. Much to Dennet’s dismay, Alpha’s first choice was always the Nugalope. It was a creature after her own heart for getting into things and self-sufficiency. Aside from the occasional bath in the river, Filcher didn’t need extra attention the way horses did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could have gone down to find her lover or helped so his evening chores would be done sooner. If she did, she was certain she’d demand he pin her against the wall in the corner of the barn. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t done it before in the middle of the night, but there were a few too many people milling around for her taste. She also didn’t want a fast and furious moment which would be over in a few refreshing minutes. Tonight she was in the mood for sex which was as long and hot as the air was cool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With all the trouble Blackwall had with buttons and clasps, she decided to preemptively undress. Once her clothes were neatly folded away in a drawer, she dropped a silk sleeping shift over her bright, rusty tousle of short hair. The material ghosted along the full length of her body and she shivered pleasantly, thinking of Blackwall’s rough hands and the way the hair on his chest teased her nipples while he was on top of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Climbing into bed, she restlessly lay on her back for a few minutes. The ceiling bored her, which came as no surprise. Plucking a book from her bedside she eyed it without enthusiasm. Not much of a reader, she flipped open the front cover and tried to fathom how people got lost in such tales. Maybe if she read more of the material Cassandra enjoyed she’d have stayed with it, but her interest dissolved after a few pages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling over again, she let her mind plunge into the real world and recent past. It was far more entertaining to relive some of the nights with Blackwall. When their tent was pitched with some distance from the rest of the camp they occasionally enjoyed each other, but it wasn’t as satisfying as the privacy of Skyhold. It had been nearly a month since they’d been in a proper bed, and the thought aroused her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fondling her own nipples made the memory of him sharper and she impulsively rubbed her clit, flowing with vivid mental images of his cock thrusting between her legs. A soft mewl of delight came before her release, but it was a shallow and unsatisfying climax. In one way it calmed her needs for another half hour. In another, it heightened it; like being hungry and only allowed a taste of food from an overflowing plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never particularly patient, she shot out of bed with the speed and agility of a cat when Blackwall came up the stairs. He caught her as she greeted him with a sizzling kiss and roaming tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Had I known you were waiting this eagerly, I would have been here sooner, my lady,” Blackwall told her gruffly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spun out of his grasp on the balls of bare feet, standing in the bars of moonlight fanning through the balcony. “I love this time of year,” she told him, and dropped her shift into a pale pool at her ankles. The crisp air caressed her skin with playful touches, almost like a lover and gooseflesh rippled along her arms. “It feels so good.” Taking a deep breath, she enjoyed seeing his lust bloom as he watched her lift her hands over her head in a deliberate, full stretch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen you like this.” His tone held a hint of wonder but he’d already yanked his gloves off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the season. I love how the cold air fills my lungs and puts color in my cheeks. The ones on my face,” she teased in his ear when he grabbed her ass. Giving his earlobe a gentle nip she unlaced his pants and freed his cock. “The world is going to sleep for winter, but I feel like I’m finally waking up after being hot and miserable for months.” Stretching again, she leaned against the wall, palms against it, her back to him. The tip of her tongue poised on her lip, her eyes dared and invited him as she spread her legs. “I am very, very ready for a good fuck right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever my lady wants.” He yanked his gambison off but never got to the undershirt before he had his arms wrapped around her waist, kissing her shoulders and sliding effortlessly into her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally.” Pushing against him she rocked, meeting him, clenching and tightening around his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hips began to drum against hers, and she bent forward letting him half support her weight as he thrust almost frantically. When his rough, thick fingers touched her already aroused clit, she almost roared with a shattering climax. Gasping, she reached backward to touch him, panting and pushing against him in encouragement. Skimming across the top of a third climax, she felt his arms clamp around her, motion stopping at his deepest, and the familiar intoxicating guttural sounds he made when he came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maker’s balls.” His breath was ragged as he pulled out of her and he steadied himself with a hand on the mantle. “Are you always like this before winter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking him by the hand she led him to the bed and slid in one leg at a time, allowing him the view. “Usually, but it has been awhile since we had real time together. Let’s just say that getting used to something and being deprived of it for a while, particularly this time of year? I get impatient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled and she sat up on her knees to help him finish undressing. “So I’m starting to see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning up to kiss him, she stroked his flat nipples and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Do you think I can convince you to stay up here tonight instead of the stables?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you already have.” With a gentle shove, he pushed her into the bed and climbed in after her.</span>
</p><p> </p>
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